


Hello, little lady / I thought your name was Thom

by Lavendia



Series: Dragon Age: Soulmates [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Slow Burn, Soul Bond, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-07-27 14:33:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16221086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavendia/pseuds/Lavendia
Summary: When the Herald goes to find the Warden-Constable in the Hinterlands, she isn't expecting to see the soldier she met in Val Royeaux ten years ago. Nor was she expecting to ever have to complete their soul bond.Sometimes, divine intervention just feels like divine fuckery.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! First work, please be nice. Also it's not beta-read, so if you find any mistakes please let me know so I can correct them. Hope you like it!

Elsie was done with the Hinterlands.

She’d arrived with ferocious energy, determined to make a good impression on her new advisors back at Haven, ready to show them how reliable and useful she could really be. After several weeks of horseback riding, camping outdoors, fighting rebel mages and Templars, and doing every odd job from here to Denerim, she was _done_.

She was so certain once she had sent the plans for the watchtowers back to Cullen that she would be given leave to return to Haven. She wanted a bath, she wanted to read a book and she wanted sleep for three days straight.

She was packed and ready to go when she received a new directive from the Nightingale. Varric was awake when the messenger arrived, and when he heard her sighing at the dossier, he asked, “Bad news?”

Elsie shook her head. “Not bad,” she said. “Not good, though. Leliana wants us to find a Grey Warden.”

“As in, just pick one up off the road?” asked the dwarf. “Because I haven’t seen one since Kirkwall.”

“A specific Warden – uh, _Warden-Constable_ Blackwall,” she read, squinting at Leliana’s cursive script. “Heard of him?”

“Nope,” replied Varric, standing up and dusting himself off. “Come on then. Sooner we find him, sooner we can leave.”

Elsie couldn’t agree more.

Solas was about as thrilled as she was, but she felt that might have more to do with his attitude towards Wardens. He didn’t kick up a fuss though, and within half an hour they were back on their horses, heading to Blackwall’s last known location.

She was sighing again before they’d even started scouting the area. “Of course he lives in a swamp,” she muttered.

“This is hardly a swamp,” Varric shot back. “I mean, have you been to the Marshes yet?”

“No, and with any luck it will be completely devoid of rifts so I can avoid going there ever,” she replied.

Varric snorted. “I don’t think that kind of luck exists, sweetheart.”

It didn’t take them long to find him. She was ill-prepared for the encounter as it was, but when they pulled up to the small training area and she saw the Warden turn and face them, her stomach dropped.

She knew those eyes, the sharp grey glint under a heavy brow. She knew his voice, too. She’d heard it so many times, playing the same sentence over and over. The beard was new, and the uniform was different, but she’d seen this man before – and his name wasn’t Gordon Blackwall.

It was almost fortunate that they were immediately set upon by bandits, providing her with the perfect distraction to cover her shock. In a way, the rush of adrenaline was a great reprise from it.

For all her anxiety, he clearly didn’t recognise her, and she was grateful for it. Once the fight was done, and before he was back in earshot, she leaned down to Varric. “I need you to do the talking,” she whispered.

Varric glanced at her with a frown. “Kid, I know you’re not the chatty type, but –”

“I _can’t_ talk to him,” she hissed. “Don’t ask me why.”

Varric huffed but he did as she asked. He did have a marvellous way with words, and he didn’t even mention that she was the Herald. He simply said that they were an envoy sent from the Inquisition to ask for his assistance.

Blackwall, luckily enough, didn’t need much convincing. Considering that he no longer had any conscripts to train, he agreed to go with them.

“Should I travel with you lot?” he asked, glancing to Solas and Elsie. His eyes stayed on her for a moment longer, and she held her breath – but he didn’t linger long.

Solas was her saving grace this time, clearly able to see she was uncomfortable. “Best we meet you at Haven,” he said. “We have a few other tasks at the Crossroads yet.”

With that sorted, Blackwall agreed to meet them there, and they got back on their horses and took off. As soon as they were at a reasonable pace, Varric piped up again.

“So, kid,” he started, but she shook her head immediately.

“Please don’t ask,” she said.

“I gotta ask,” he said, almost apologetically. “What was all that about?”

Elsie sighed. “I, uh – we’ve met before.”

Solas let his curiosity get the better of him, too. “He didn’t seem to recognise you, if that’s the case.”

“I know,” she said. “I was hoping he wouldn’t.”

“Why?”

“Can we drop it?” she said, a little sharper than she’d intended. “I really would rather not discuss it.”

The elf and dwarf shared a look, but didn’t press the matter and she was grateful for it. She didn’t let herself think about it, not until they were back at camp and she was safely hidden away in her tent.

She sat down, took off her boots and sighed. She’d spent so much time sighing today. Maker, she wished she hadn’t received Leliana’s message, wished that they’d hightailed back to Haven instead. Maybe she could have avoided all this.

Hesitantly, she pulled the cloth wrap of her wristband away from her left hand, and stared at the words there that had haunted her all these years, the gentle curve of the letters shifting over the veins of her wrist.

**_Hello, little lady._ **


	2. Chapter 2

_It was raining in Val Royeaux._

_She’d been here with her father a thousand times over the course of her childhood. He was constantly travelling back and forth for business, and though she was usually sent to tutoring or some such thing, this time she had been left to her own devices._

_Barely thirteen, Elsie was still quite small for her age in both size and weight. Her lovely dress dragged along the pavement, an inch too long for her legs. She should have been wearing heeled boots but she wanted to wear her comfortable slippers, now soaked by the puddles along with her hem._

_She had to bolt from cover to cover, darting beneath balconies and gilded pergolas to keep herself dry. The rain came down hard and heavy, far too stormy for a summertime shower. She darted down a nearby laneway to catch her breath for a moment, not realising that the archway she’d run beneath was already being used by another – not until she stepped backwards and she was suddenly pressed against someone much larger than she._

_With a gasp, she jumped across the space, spinning to see whose toes she’d literally stepped on. It was a soldier – tall and broad, with sharp grey eyes and thick, dark hair. His beautiful chevalier’s armour seemed to shimmer with raindrops, and he had a massive sword strapped to his belt. He gave her a gentle half-smile, a few lines appearing on his smoothly shaven cheeks as he did._

_“ **Hello, little lady** ,” he said. _

_Elsie had to bite her lip to stop from gasping again as she felt a shiver pass over the skin of her wrist, over her words. She knew she’d hear them eventually, but she didn’t think it would be so soon, and she didn’t think it would be a soldier twenty years her senior. In her naïve young mind she thought it would be a prince or young handsome lord, and they would meet somewhere perfect and fall in love at first sight._

_This wasn’t the beautiful moment she was hoping for._

_Not to mention she’d heard stories of girls being sold to their soulmates as child brides, and she wasn’t about to let anyone take her from her home. She had a difficult enough time hiding her magic from her parents to keep from being sent to a Circle. She wasn’t ready for this._

_The soldier could tell she was scared. He must have thought it was just because she was a kid, and he was a stranger._

_“It’s alright,” he said, his deep voice careful and gentle. “I won’t hurt you. I’m just hiding from the rain, like you.”_

_They stared at each other for a moment before she let her eyes drop, looking down at her rain-soaked slippers and muddy hem._

_“My name’s Thom. What’s your name?” he asked. When she didn’t respond, he chuckled. “Don’t talk much, eh?”_

_Not wanting to be rude, she shook her head._

_“You lost, little lady?” the soldier asked. “I can help you get home, if you want.”_

_She shook her head again. She glanced up to look at him once more, and he was still looking at her. He grinned when her eyes darted back down._

_“Shy little thing, aren’t ya?”_

_That was the last thing she heard before the rain paused long enough for her to dart back out to the courtyard and rush home. She didn’t tell her parents what had happened, and wore long sleeves to cover the words on her arm, not wanting anyone to see that they had turned bold._

_With any luck, nobody would ever see it._

* * *

 

 

When Elsie woke, she groaned and rubbed at her tired eyes. She was sick of seeing the moment replay over and over again in her dreams. She knew it was something to do with the marks. Her biological directive was to complete the soul bond by saying the words, and her subconscious would keep bugging her about it until she did.

So much had changed lately. Was it such a bad thing to wait a little more? She wasn’t ready then, and she didn’t feel ready now.

It was still early, and she wasn’t about to get back to sleep. She pulled on her robes and boots and went to the campfire, lighting it easily with a wave of her hand and setting up a kettle of tea to boil.

When she heard footsteps coming, she turned to see Varric returning from the woods. He gave her a grin. “Early morning for you, princess.”

Elsie shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep.”

He parked himself on the log beside her. “Something to do with the whole Warden fiasco yesterday?” he asked.

She gave him a glare, and Varric just stared right back at her.

“You really aren’t gonna explain that to me?” he asked. “Seems fair, seein’ as I covered for you and all.”

“It’s not exactly something I want the entire Inquisition to know.”

Varric feigned being hurt. “Ouch,” he said. “What if I promise not to tell anyone?”

“You expect me to believe that?”

The dwarf placed his hand over his heart. “On my honour,” he said. “What little I have left, anyway.”

She grimaced. She’d never told anybody about the soldier, and she’d never wanted to – not until now. Varric was the closest thing she had to a friend at the Inquisition, and while it wasn’t something that she would have considered speaking about before, it was now an immediate problem. He might be able to help her figure it out.

Inner debate solved, Elsie sighed and began to speak. “Fine. Okay,” she said, as she rolled up her sleeve. “See that?”

Varric leaned in. “Cute,” he said. “I didn’t know you had a soulmate.”

“I don’t,” she said. “Not yet.”

He frowned. “I don’t follow.”

“It was in Val Royeaux, when I was thirteen years old,” she said. “I met a soldier, and he spoke to me, and said my words. I was terrified, and I ran home.”

Varric’s frown deepened. “Shit, kid. That’s rough. I –” He paused, suddenly realising what she was getting at. “Oh, _shit_. You don’t mean –”

“Yes, the Warden,” she said. “It was ten years ago, so he doesn’t recognise me.”

“And you still haven’t said his words?” asked Varric.

Elsie shook her head.

“Why?” he said. “Why didn’t you say something? I mean, I understand not wanting to be bonded so young – but why now?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I panicked. I was scared then, I’m still scared now.”

“You were just a kid,” said Varric gently. “Not to mention it’s every poor soldier’s dream to be bonded to a noble girl, you had every right to be afraid.”

They sat in silence for a moment while she poured their tea into mugs, and handed one to him. Varric was deep in thought for a few minutes before speaking again.

“I know you didn’t tell me because you wanted my advice –”

“Please don’t tell me to talk to him,” she muttered.

“I really think you need to talk to him.”

“ _Ugh_. No.”

“If you don’t want to tell him everything, just tell him as much as you can,” he said. “You don’t have to admit you were afraid if you’re worried it’ll hurt his feelings. But as the Herald – and I think Leliana would agree with me here – you need more allies. Betraying a soulmate is borderline impossible, so even if you don’t start a relationship with him, you’ll at least be able to trust him.”

Elsie chewed on her lower lip for a moment. “Shit,” she sighed.

“I’m making sense, aren’t I?”

“Yes, you bastard. Yes you are.”

Varric smiled. “Sorry. I do that sometimes,” he said. “Look, you don’t have to decide right now. We have a few days’ worth of riding back to Haven, so you can think about it on the road.”

Elsie glanced at him. “What happens if I get back and I still don’t feel ready? What do I do then?”

“Kid, if you keep waiting until you think you’re ready, you’ll never be.”

He gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder before going to his own camp to pack. Elsie stared into the fire a little longer and made tea for Solas when he woke, and was even quieter than usual the rest of the day as she pondered everything her new friend had said.


	3. Chapter 3

They had been back at Haven a few days when Blackwall arrived.

After speaking once more with Varric, Elsie decided to tell Leliana the truth. She knew the spymaster would find out one way or another, and Varric convinced her it was easier to be honest about the situation to save making things more complicated later on.

Elsie still wasn’t about to talk about the whole name thing. He’d told her his name was Thom, but Leliana said his name was Warden-Constable Gordon Blackwall. Somewhere along the line he’d changed his name – but she didn’t have the whole story, and she wasn’t about to throw him to the wolves without knowing more.

So she simply told Leliana what she’d told Varric, that Blackwall was her soulmate and she’d run away from him as a kid and not sealed the bond. Not surprisingly, Leliana urged her to speak with him urgently.

“You must seal the bond,” she said, excitedly. “That sort of loyalty cannot be bought.”

“Varric said you’d say that.”

“Varric is a clever man,” Leliana smiled. “And I know this may make things more complicated for you personally, but from the Inquisition’s perspective, having your soulmate as an ally is a huge advantage. You don’t have to take him as your husband to reap the benefits it affords, either.”

“Maker, Leliana – please don’t talk about me having a husband,” Elsie said, cringing.

“You might not like it, but as your soulmate he will do anything to keep you safe,” said the spymaster. “Which will help me sleep better at night.”

“I’d hate for anyone to lose sleep over me.”

She asked Leliana if she could use their meeting room for the conversation. She didn’t want to invite Blackwall to her quarters – she didn’t know him well enough and couldn’t gauge whether that would give him the wrong idea.

Leliana said the room was hers as long as she needed, and asked if she wanted a messenger sent for Blackwall. Not wanting to prolong her own suffering any further, she nodded.

She busied herself with reading dossiers and notes from her council meeting earlier until she heard the door open. She looked up to see the messenger, who gave her a short bow before stepping out of the way to let the Warden enter.

“Warden-Constable Blackwall, Herald,” he said. “As requested.”

She nodded and waved him away, careful not to say anything yet. The Warden stepped in, looking much cleaner than he had been in the Hinterlands.

“Herald,” he said, gruffly. “Sorry for not knowing who you were earlier. I assumed you were a scout.”

_Hah! You have no idea_ , her brain supplied, less than helpfully.

Blackwall stared at her as she stared at him, saying nothing for a moment. He rolled his shoulders a little, looking slightly restless. “Don’t talk much, do you?”

_Don’t talk much, eh?_

Elsie could hear the same tone in his words, the same gruff amusement. She had to say something in return. She swallowed the nerves in her throat, and spoke.

“ **I thought your name was Thom** ,” she said.

She felt the same gentle shiver pass down her spine that she had felt all those years ago across her wrist. The look of pure, unadulterated astonishment on Blackwall’s face was truly remarkable, as his mark flared the same, sealing their bond. He took a half-step backwards, the hands that had been resting behind his back coming forward to hold onto his forearm.

“You – you’re my –”

“I’m well aware of what I am,” she said. When he said nothing in return, she went on. “I’m sorry if I’ve surprised you. I thought it would be better if we were all on the same page.”

When he regained his composure slightly, he spoke again, but it wasn’t the question she expected to hear. “Who are you?” he asked, eyes narrowed.

Not knowing what else to do, she answered. “My name is Elisabeth Trevelyan,” she said. When he said nothing, she went on. “I thought yours was Thom, but I must have been mistaken.”

Realising he wasn’t able to lie to her – at least not about this particular matter – Blackwall relented. “No, you aren’t mistaken,” he said. “But I don’t go by that name anymore.”

“Is it something that you’d rather keep a secret?” asked Elsie.

“Yes,” he said, a little too quickly. “If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” she said. Hell, she’d been keeping significant secrets her entire life, she could cut him a break. “You go by Blackwall now, though?”

He nodded. “And what should I call you? Herald?”

“Elsie is fine,” she said.

The Warden stared at her a moment longer. When she shifted, a little uncomfortable under his gaze, he said, “I’m sorry. I’ve been – waiting for you a long time.”

“It’s fine,” she said.

He was her soulmate, so he could sense her emotions better than anyone else could. It wasn’t difficult for him to gauge her nervousness, her anxiety, all of it with him at the centre.

“Obviously, I’m not everything you expected,” he said, gruffly.

Elsie’s eyes snapped back up. “What?”

“I know most noble girls want to marry a lord, which I am clearly not,” he said, waving to his armour. “I’ll see myself out.”

“Wait – Warden –”

The door was closed before she could get another word in.

 

* * *

 

 

She had to wait to speak to him again until after the council meeting, which took about an hour longer than it should have. The sun was almost set by the time she made her way to the outer wall, one of Leliana’s messengers directing her to where she could find the Warden.

She found him by the smithy’s, looking even gruffer than he did before. He was sharpening swords, sparks flying up from the grindstone, and when he saw her approaching he didn’t move.

“Herald,” he said.

“Warden,” she replied. “Could we speak in private?”

He gave her a look, but stopped his work and stood, leading her to the small cabin a few doors down. It was sparsely furnished, but comfortable.

Elsie walked through and stood a little awkwardly by the table as he closed the door behind them. “What can I do for you, Herald?”

“I wanted to apologise for earlier,” she said. “I – uh, I didn’t handle the situation exceptionally well.”

Blackwall sighed. “You don’t need to be so formal with me,” he said. “I know that this must be a surprise for you as well.”

Elsie shook her head. “You don’t understand,” she said.

Blackwall frowned as she began to roll up her sleeve, and she held her breath as he stepped closer to look at the writing on her wrist. He was close enough to her now that she could smell him, and the scent of sandalwood almost made her eyes close. He smelled like home.

“ _Maker_.”

Her attention snapped back to him as he spoke, his eyes moving from the words on her wrist back to her face.

“I remember,” he said, softly. “In Val Royeaux, wasn’t it?”

Elsie nodded numbly. She couldn’t believe he remembered – it was so long ago.

“It all makes sense now,” he said. “You were just a child.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything,” she said. “I’m sure it was frustrating for you to be waiting so long.”

“Don’t apologise to me, Herald,” he said, insistently. “I shouldn’t have been upset with you for – whatever imagined slight I thought it was. It was daft.”

“You couldn’t have known,” she said. She rolled her sleeve back down, and Blackwall – perhaps realising his nearness – took a deliberate step back.

He cleared his throat. “All the same, I’m sorry. It wasn’t fair of me to assume.”

There was an awkward moment of silence before she spoke up again.

“I – I know you’ve been waiting a very long time, and I know it’s not exactly what you wanted, but – I’m not sure about jumping into anything,” she said, a little hurriedly.

Blackwall nodded. “Of course, my lady. I wouldn’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

For a self-professed grouch and a career soldier, he was very gentlemanly. Elsie smiled, for the first time. “Thank you,” she said. “I think we should maybe get to know each other, though – if you want? We have a group leaving for Crestwood in a few days, if you wanted to come along.”

Blackwood smiled back at her warmly. “Of course, my lady. Just let me know.”

She nodded, feeling a little awkward again. “Right, I’d better, uh –” she said, motioning towards the door, and Blackwall stepped out of the way.

As she walked past, his hand came out and touched her back – to guide her, or give her reassurance or something – and she felt the shiver again, across her mark and down her spine. It was like something had clicked into place and suddenly she couldn’t look away from him.

He seemed under the same spell. For a moment she thought he was going to kiss her but then he blinked, and the moment passed.

“Have a good night, my lady,” he said gently.

“You too, Warden,” she replied, and left.


	4. Chapter 4

The situation in Crestwood was far worse than they could have anticipated, although Elsie was starting to realise that it was pretty dire everywhere. There were significantly fewer apostates in the area, but there were twice as many demons and rifts, and she wasn’t sure which was worse.

While closing the rift under the lake was top priority, Elsie wasn’t confident enough to make the call on her own and was waiting on a response from her advisors at Haven. She left Scout Harding in charge at Crestwood while she and the others travelled out to meet with Stroud, so as not to keep Hawke waiting too much longer.

The roads were in terrible condition, and the clouds rolled endlessly over the horizon. She’d almost forgotten what the sky looked like. The trek to Three Trout Lake should only have taken a few hours but it ended up being half a day by the time they arrived, and Stroud was kind enough to share his bandit hideout with them.

As they set up their bedrolls and tried to get their clothes dry, Blackwall offered to go collect some wood, determined to find something dry enough to get a fire going. Varric offered to go with him, but he said it was fine and he could take care of himself.

Elsie didn’t have any problem with it. She’d seen him cut down plenty of demons and highwaymen in the last few weeks, and she wasn’t about to argue with any plan that involved her getting warm and dry, so she thought nothing of it.

At least, not until she suddenly had a stab of anxiety, and she knew something was wrong.

She was pulling her boots back on when Solas noticed what she was doing. “Herald? What are you doing?”

“I – I don’t know,” she said. “I think Blackwall’s in trouble.”

He frowned. “What do you mean, in trouble?”

“I can’t explain it,” she said, hurrying to grasp her still-damp robes and staff from where they were lying. “I’m going after him.”

Solas stepped in front of her, blocking her exit. “If it’s not safe for him, it may not be for you either.”

Elsie honestly wasn’t sure what came over her. One moment she was calmly walking out, and the next she’d shoved her staff into Solas’ gut to push him out of her way. It wasn’t until he’d stumbled backwards onto the cave wall with a grunt of pain, wide-eyed in astonishment, that she realised what she had done.

She hesitated. “Shit,” she breathed. “Sorry. I – I have to go.”

The sound of Varric’s voice calling her name followed her out, and Elsie cursed at herself as she bolted. She knew she shouldn’t have done that, and knew that she should have apologised better, but the feeling of worry wouldn’t let her. She _had_ to find Blackwall. She _had_ to go to him. It felt like the nervousness was blistering inside of her, and she could do nothing to stop it.

The rain was starting to wash away Blackwall’s heavy boot prints, but she was chasing the trail so closely it didn’t take her long to find him. She followed the trail down to a small canyon, where some small trees and shrubs were growing beneath the cover of the rocks, and when she came upon the Warden she gasped at what she saw.

He was perfectly fine, albeit panting slightly. His armour was splattered with blood, as was his sword, but she was fairly certain it all belonged to the several bodies strewn about the ground around him. One of them was still twitching.

“Blackwall,” she said, trying to call out to him, but her voice came out as little more than a weak cry. He heard it, though, and turned wide-eyed to her.

“Maker,” he breathed. “What are you –”

“I _knew_ something was wrong,” she exclaimed, rushing towards him, careful to avoid the bodies and their scattered weapons. Her hands came up to his face, quickly scanning his body for injuries, making sure all the blood on him wasn’t his own.

His free hand covered hers, and he said softly, “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“What happened?”

“Bandits. Thought they’d get the better of an old man.”

She was still inspecting him when he dropped his sword and took both of her hands in his, holding them steady. She didn’t realise she was shaking until he stilled her.

“Elsie,” he said firmly, drawing her eyes back up to his. “I’m alright, love. It’s alright.”

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“Positive,” he replied, and then his lip twisted into a wry smile. “Though it means you’ll pay me such close attention, maybe I should feign an injury.”

Her breath caught as she realised how close they were – how familiar she was being with him. She snatched her hands back, ducking her head a little to break the eye contact. “Sorry,” she said.

“I wasn’t complaining.”

She glanced back to him. He was still smiling a little, just enough for his moustache to twitch as he did. He was teasing her, and she should have been more upset about it, but she wasn’t.

“How did you know?” he asked. “That I was in trouble, I mean.”

“I – I don’t know,” she said, grimacing as she recalled the sensation. “I just knew something wasn’t right. I had to find you.”

“Do you think it has something to do with you being my soulmate?”

The question was asked innocently enough, but it was the first time that he’d actually said the word _soulmate_ in relation to them. They’d mostly avoided talking about it for the last few weeks, tip-toeing around their situation so as not to offend each other, or make it incredibly obvious to anyone else. He was respecting her wish for space, so much so that she sometimes thought he’d completely forgotten about their bond.

Clearly, he hadn’t.

Elsie nodded. “I think so.” She cringed as she remembered what she’d done to Solas. “I – _shit_. Solas.”

“What about Solas?”

“On the way out of the Cave I, uh – I might have hit him,” she said, voice small in embarrassment. “With my staff.”

The booming laugh that came from Blackwall almost shocked her. “Oh, Maker,” he said. “I would have liked to see that.”

“I expect I’ll be apologising profusely once we return.”

“Does he know about our situation?” asked Blackwall.

Elsie shook her head. “It’s still not exactly a good excuse for – for what I did.”

“If you’re comfortable with him knowing, he might be more inclined to overlook it,” he went on. “But only if you want him to know.”

That didn’t sound too terrible to her, and Blackwall was being very careful with her, making sure she knew she was allowed to set whatever boundaries she pleased. “He should know,” she said. “I should have told him sooner, but I have some trust issues.”

“You don’t say,” Blackwall teased, a glint of humour in his eye.

 

* * *

 

Once they had retrieved the firewood and made their way back to the hideout, Elsie immediately went to Solas, who was doing his best to skin a hare they had caught earlier.

“I’m really sorry for hitting you,” she said, not bothering with a preamble.

Solas glanced up at her, the dark look in his eyes a clear indication of what he was feeling. “I should think so.”

Elsie resisted the urge to sigh at his melodrama, and instead sat down beside him. “I’m going to tell you something confidential, if you can promise not to tell anyone else,” she said.

“It doesn’t matter to me who you fraternise with, Herald,” said Solas bluntly. “At least, not when I’m not being assaulted.”

Elsie’s mouth parted in surprise. She wasn’t expecting Solas to be so rude – but then again, she had hit him pretty hard. She could see Blackwall glowering across the room, having heard what the elf had said and clearly not impressed with it in the slightest.

She gave him a quick shake of her head, just to let him know not to get involved, before turning back to Solas.

“It’s not fraternisation,” she said. “Blackwall and I are soulmates.”

The elf’s eyes snapped back up to hers, suddenly alight with curiosity and not with disdain. “Soulmates?” he repeated.

Elsie nodded. “We’re not – in a relationship, or anything like that, but what happened earlier was a response to Blackwall being in danger, I think. He ran into some bandits.”

Realisation dawned on Solas’ face. “Of course,” he said, before shaking his head at himself. “I’m sorry, da’len. I should not have assumed –”

“It’s fine,” she said, cutting him off. “I shouldn’t have whacked you with my staff in the first place.”

Solas glanced across to where the Warden was building a small fire pit, and then back to Elsie. “Everything makes much more sense now,” he said, with a smile. “All is forgiven, Herald. And your secret is safe with me.”

She smiled back, relief washing through her. The rest of the night went on without much trouble, and Elsie didn't even mind that Varric teased her about flying off the handle for the rest of the night. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao this is working out to be 1000% more of a slow burn than I'd anticipated but whatever  
> thanks for reading!

Elsie turned over again. She was tired, it was dark, and she should be sleeping, but she couldn’t.

It had been a month since they’d ridden out to Crestwood, and they’d managed to liberate both the new and old town sites, take back the fortress, wipe out the bandits and highwaymen, drain the lake, close the rift beneath and excavate the skeletons of the villagers.

She was _exhausted_ , but more so she was terrified. She wanted to sleep so badly, her body was so worn but she knew that when she closed her eyes she would see the Fade twisting in agony, see the demons in her dreams.

She’d never get to sleep at this rate.

Shifting herself to stand and leave her bedroll, she pulled her robes on and stepped out of her tent. Caer Bronach at night was so still and quiet it was difficult to believe there was a war at all. There was a night guard, but they didn’t move much, only staring out and waiting for trouble.

The fire by their tents was low, burning only a few small embers. Elsie moved an extra log onto the pit and cast a small spell to bring the flames back to life.

“Neat trick.”

The voice startled her, and when she spun she nearly stumbled. Blackwall watched her with a raised eyebrow from outside his tent.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to give you a fright,” he said, but there was a very small smile at the edge of his mouth.

She wondered for a moment what he would have been like in his youth. Not that he was particularly aged, but there was a touch of grey hair at his temples, and lines by his eyes.

“You should be resting,” he said.

“So should you,” she replied.

He huffed out a laugh. “Yes, probably.”

“Why aren’t you, then?”

“Why aren’t you?” he shot back.

The nightmares had haunted her for the last few nights, since dealing with the rift in the lake, and the bodies beneath it. She wasn’t quite sure what she had seen but she was certain it had terrified her.

He must have been able to read her mind, because he said a moment later, “Nightmares, right?”

She glanced up, and nodded. “You too?”

Blackwall nodded. “Most nights.”

She had always been curious about the Wardens, and though Blackwall was usually tight-lipped about the whole thing she couldn’t help but be curious. “If you’d known how bad it would be – the Blight, I mean – would you still have become a Warden?”

“If I’d known when I joined, I probably wouldn’t have,” said Blackwall. “But now, I’m glad I did.”

“Why?”

“You don’t know how important the sacrifice is, I suppose,” he said. “I understand better now. Wisdom comes with age,” he added, with a small smirk.

Elsie found herself smiling back. “You’re not that old.”

“Probably not. I simply feel old, with all you youngsters running around. What are you, twenty five?”

Elsie shifted in her seat. “Twenty two.”

“Maker, you are young,” he said.

She was about to protest when she saw the wicked glimmer in his eyes. He was teasing her. “Cheeky old man,” she grumbled.

“I thought I wasn’t that old.”

“I’ve changed my mind.”

“Very fickle of you,” he said with a smile.

Elsie ducked her head. It wasn’t that she wasn’t used to talking to men – there were more than enough of them at the Circle with all the Templars running around – but it was strange to be treated nicely by a man without any ulterior motives. Usually the Templars were gruff, sometimes they were just plain cruel. Only a few of them had been nice to her and those that were had been young stuttering boys.

She had found in the last few weeks that she’d been with Blackwall that she quite liked him. He was different, and interesting, not to mention he was also exceptionally kind. Not to everyone, but always to her.

Yes, that was it. He was especially kind to her. He could be harsh with others but he had never made her feel unwelcome.

A small sound from a nearby tent pulled her out of her thoughts.

“Hawke,” said Blackwall. “He snores when he sleeps.”

“At least one of us is sleeping,” she said. “Lucky bastard.”

Blackwall glanced at her. “I have potions, if you need some. They might help –”

Elsie shook her head quickly. “I already tried potions.”

Blackwall frowned.

“What is it?” she asked.

“I’m worried about you.”

She managed a small smile, hoping to reassure him. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“I think it’s just all been a bit much. I only just passed my Harrowing before going to the Conclave, and then the Anchor and everything. I think I’m just – weak.”

She was surprised a moment later when Blackwall stood, moving to crouch beside her. He placed his hand on her shoulder, and said gently, “You are not weak, Elsie.”

She frowned, not at the words he spoke but the way she felt with him so close, the heavy weight of his hand, the soft tone of his voice. She felt her stomach turn, the way it would if she were a child with a crush, a girl who’d never been kissed or touched. She felt very juvenile indeed.

Blackwall either didn’t notice her reaction or misinterpreted it. “You are a very brave young woman,” he said. “You have faced more challenges in these past few months than some do in a lifetime.” His hand squeezed her shoulder. “You are not weak,” he repeated, firmly.

“You think too much of me,” she said. “But – thank you.”

“That’s quite alright. I wouldn’t want you thinking badly of yourself.”

Her lip twitched. “Not even you could cure my low self-esteem.”

“I could try,” he shot back.

His hand was still on her shoulder. Elsie glanced down, unable to meet his eyes as she felt an awful truth rising up. “Is it bad that I’m scared?” she asked. “Of the Inquisition, what we’re doing?”

“You’d be stupid if you weren’t,” said Blackwall. A second later, his fingers were under her chin, turning her back to face him. “Being brave is being scared, and doing your job all the same.”

Elsie held her breath as he leaned a little closer.

“And you know, you’re a very brave girl.”

Blackwall was about to move away, looking like he was about to bid her farewell, when suddenly Elsie did something very stupid. She opened her mouth and blurted out, “Will you stay with me?”

Blackwall paused. “What?”

“Just for tonight,” she said, hurriedly. “I – I can’t sleep, it’s been days and – I can’t sleep on my own.”

He was silent for a moment too long when she suddenly realised what it was she had asked. “Maker,” she breathed. “I – I’m sorry.”

She stood suddenly and made to move back to her tent when Blackwall caught her hand. “Wait,” he said, quickly. “It’s alright.”

“I shouldn’t have said that –”

“Elsie,” he said, a little sharper, enough to make her eyes snap back to his. “If you want me to stay with you, I will.”

She felt her cheeks grow hot. Not trusting herself to say the right thing, she simply nodded.

Blackwall turned her, and they moved to her tent. They didn’t speak as they lay down, stopping only to kick off their boots. Elsie felt breathless as Blackwall pulled her into an embrace, and she was both pleased and frustrated to find it extremely comfortable to be tucked into his arms, under his chin.

She breathed in and tried not to sigh at how good he smelled.

“Is this alright?”

At this distance his voice seemed to go right through her, even though it was nothing more than a murmur.

“Yes,” she replied, voice hushed. “Thank you.”

His hand brushed down her arm. “Relax, girl. I’ve got you. Go to sleep.”

Elsie forced her muscles to loosen and closed her eyes. She found it immediately easy to rest and be calm when she could match her breathing to the slow, steady movements of Blackwall’s chest.

She wasn’t sure exactly when she fell asleep, but she remembered with great detail the way Blackwall’s thumb brushed over and over at her arm until she drifted away from the world entirely.


	6. Chapter 6

She thought leaving Crestwood would have made things better, but when their next venture took them to the mires of southern Ferelden she knew she was mistaken. They had to go there urgently to retrieve a missing scout group – the Inquisition (such as it was) didn’t have enough soldiers to simply leave any behind.

Elsie had never dealt with darkspawn, having been fortunate enough to avoid most of the Blight. She knew it was only because of her family’s wealth and relative prosperity that she’d been placed in a good Circle, far enough out of the way to be safe.

The darkspawn didn’t do anything to alleviate her recurring nightmares – in fact, they only served to make them worse. She saw them every night in her dreams. It did mean that Blackwall stayed with her each night (only ever at her request), but she sure wished she had an easier method of getting him into her tent.

It always began with screams. The screams of people were terrifying enough, but the screams of the dead were chilling. They were deep, rattling shrieks, the war-cry of the damned. The sound made her head rattle and the visions were blurred, but she could always see the dark eyes of the terrors locked on her with a single-minded focus to kill. She could smell burning flesh and blood and it made the bile rise in her throat until it was all she could taste.

She always, _always_ turned and ran, even though she knew she should stand and fight. All she knew was fear, the cold grasp of cowardice and the ringing sound of the darkspawn’s cry in her ears, promising death and destruction, and she could was scream for help, but nobody was there to listen.

Suddenly there were hands on her, gripping her tightly, dragging her down. She tried to cry out but her voice failed her, so she shoved back, trying to get free of whatever thing was gripping her. All she managed to do was drag them both to the ground.

Reaching out with clawing hands, she was about to call on her magic when suddenly there was a sharp strike to her cheek and she woke with a gasp, the flames of war vanishing into the Void.

“Elsie! Wake up!”

Eyes trying to focus in the darkness, Elsie could barely see Blackwall’s face above her. But she knew his voice. “Blackwall?” she said, breathless. “What happened?”

“Nightmare,” he said, a little out of breath himself. “You – your magic. Sorry. Didn’t mean to hit you.”

Elsie stared at her hands, the fading glow of a spell still lingering. “I – I’m sorry,” she said, before a hot rush of tears sprang up in her eyes. “Maker, I could’ve –”

“Hush now, you’re alright,” he said calmly, moving them both so they were sitting, and he could hold Elsie’s shoulders in a gentle embrace.

She was trembling, the shock like cold ice water in her veins. “I could’ve hurt you,” she said, voice watery with tears.

“You didn’t,” he said. “Takes more than that to hurt me.”

“ _Blackwall_.”

“It’s fine, lass. You didn’t, and that’s all that matters.” He moved away to inspect her face. “Me, on the other hand –”

“I’d have smacked me, too,” she said, sniffling.

“There’s a mark,” he said, grimly, turning her face with gentle hands, gently touching the top of her cheek where he’d struck her. It stung as he touched it, and Elsie drew a quick breath.

He sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“I trust you know that under normal circumstances I’d never hit a woman.”

Elsie shrugged lamely. “These are hardly normal circumstances.”

He huffed out a laugh. “No, I suppose they’re not.”

She moved to stand up, but Blackwall held her steady.

“Where are you going?”

“I should go,” she said. “Or you should go. Or – something.”

Blackwall frowned. “Why?”

“Maybe because I just tried to _kill_ you in my sleep?”

He shook his head. “No. I’ll stay.”

“Blackwall –”

“I’m staying, Elsie. Unless you want me to leave.”

A moment passed, and then he pulled her face back up to look in her eyes with his fingers under her chin. “Do you want me to leave?”

She was suddenly breathless again under his gaze. His eyes were so intense she couldn’t look at them, but then her gaze fell to his mouth and she felt her stomach drop seeing how close they were.

“Elsie,” he said again. “Do you want me to go?”

She swallowed. “No,” she managed. “Please.”

Before she even knew what she was doing, she had moved forward to press her lips to his. He was warm, and his beard tickled her skin. He was frozen long enough that it snapped Elsie out of the moment, and she pulled away as suddenly as she’d moved forward.

“Shit,” she said. “Sorry. I – I didn’t mean to do that.”

“Do it again,” he said.

His voice was deeper now, more commanding. It made her stomach drop, made her skin feel warmer. Slower this time, Elsie kissed him, moving her lips against his carefully, until he groaned and kissed back, opening his mouth to her, his hand moving up to card through the hair at the bottom of her neck.

She whined as his fingernails dug into her scalp, grasping at the collar of his nightshirt to pull him closer. When he groaned the sound seemed to reverberate right through her, making the warm sensation deep in her belly feel molten hot.

His hand snaked around her waist and pulled her closer until she was half-seated in his lap. When his mouth broke away from hers to trail desperate kisses down her jaw and neck, she breathed his name, gripped at his thick dark locks and pulled him closer still –

The sharp sound of a warning horn right outside their tent made them both jump, but Elsie would have fallen straight to the floor if Blackwall hadn’t caught her. Her heart pounded in her chest so hard she could feel it in her throat.

“ _Darkspawn_!” came the night watchman’s cry, properly interrupting their moment. “To arms!”

Blackwall groaned, cursing beneath his breath.

Elsie wanted nothing more than to stay in his arms, but it wasn’t like she had an option. She scrambled out of Blackwall’s reach and picked up her staff, pulling her armour and boots on in a hurry as she left the tent.

As if she didn’t have enough bad luck already, she couldn’t even get _laid_ without it being interrupted by some kind of monstrous creature.


End file.
